Open invitation

I’ve been reading this book about body language called, surprisingly enough, ‘Body Language’ by Allan and Barbara Pease. I’ve read it once before, but decided to read it again as I didn’t get as much out of it as I could have got the first time. Now I found this one trick in the book that I decided to try out the other night and the response was amazing.

But before I tell you about the trick, some background information about my self. I’m not sure why but apparently I’m a very unapproachable person. People I don’t know almost never just walk up to me to start a conversation (neither guys nor girls). I’ve never been able to figure out why. I’ve tried opening up my body language, smiling and a whole host of other things, but it never generated any approaches (though it did cause quite a few people to look over in interest).

It can’t be because I’m ‘too good looking’ or anything like that, because I have this mate here in Bangalore who also models is at least as good looking as my self and constantly gets approached by both women and men (including me on the very first day I came out here).

I had accepted that there was something about me that just didn’t make me seem approachable. That is, until last night. Last night I tried something (only once, admittedly) and the response was tremendous. The girl I did it to (I’m generally far more interested in attracting women to come talk to me than men. I realise that is sexist, but then anybody that prefers one sex over the other can be labelled as sexist, in that case!) smiled immensely broadly and actually waved. She even almost walked over, but then checked herself as she became uncertain (I could see the uncertainty suddenly cloud her face) and she walked by. I could have stopped her right there and then, if I’d wanted to, but I was still too amazed by the reaction that a simple gesture had provoked.

I can hear you thinking, even now, ‘okay, you jerk, great story, but what was the gesture?’ Ah hah! I’m not going to tell you. No wait, yes I am. The gesture was what is called an ‘eyebrow flash’. That does not mean you burn off your eyebrows, put lights in them or anything like that (though I’m sure people would talk to you if you put lights in your eyebrows). It just means that you quickly raise and lower your eyebrows.

The reason this is effective is that this is something that we do to people we know and want to talk to. It’s a subconscious signal that tells the other person we recognise them and are willing to talk. Doing it consciously towards a person is basically inviting them in for a conversation. They can approach without fear of rejection.

‘Yeah right’ many of you now think, ‘so how come I never noticed it?’ That’s because it is subconscious, just like a ton of others signals. But I have a much better idea than trying to convince you. I’m going to tell you to try it. If it doesn’t work, well then you’ve really not made a fool of yourself (unless, of course, you think raising and lowering your eyebrows makes you look foolish) and if it does work, well imagine the possibilities!

And it works. That’s the great thing. You might not get everybody to approach, but you’ll certainly get a lot of smiles and positive reactions. In fact, I’m not sure why I’m sitting here typing this. I’m going to go out on the street and try it. And yes, I will also ‘eyebrow flash’ a few men as well, for equality’s sake.

Apartment

I now have an apartment in Bangalore. Well, almost. I’ll have it tomorrow, which is a bit tight because I’m being forced out of my hotel tomorrow morning (and they still have to paint the apartment tomorrow as well, bugger). Still, everything is working out well and it looks like I’ll be here for a while longer.

So all of yous can come and visit! I’m not sure we’ll be able to fit all of you in my one room apartment, but half the fun of India is trying new things, right?

The room has no furniture, only one window and an Indian toilet. Washing will have to be done by bucket (you take water from the bucket, dump it over your head and then repeat) what’s more there is a construction site on one side and a graveyard on the other. It is also on the third floor and has no elevator. That’s all not much of a problem though, because it’s really central (10 minutes walk from my gym) and it has a really nice roof terrace, which I imagine I’ll be sitting on a lot.

It also only costs me about 160 Singapore Dollars a month. That’s a pretty sweet deal, right?

My muscles are finally starting to get used to taking a beating every day and slowly I’m starting to notice the effect. If things go well I’ll actually have a six pack by the sixth. That’s important, because I’m travelling half way across the country for a show then and need to be in good shape. It will also be the first time in my life that I’ll have a full on six pack. It’s about bloody time.

I hope all of you are good and really appreciate the comment that you’ve sent my way. I know I’m not very responsive but I promise I read and think about each of them. Be good, wherever you are.

Alpha

I never used to be the alpha, but of late I am. I notice it in the way that people interact with me, behave towards me and want to be around me. After many months of study, practice and experimentation I am now frequently the leader of the groups I am in. People expect me to make the decision, look to me for acceptance and want me to set the mood.

Some people are naturally alpha. I am not. Everything I am today has been learned from literature, observation and my own thought process. When I was younger I was a social outcast. I had very few friends, was considered weird by most people and generally didn’t have much of a social life. I was introverted, felt uncomfortable talking and was generally shunned by people that cared about their social image.

Here I’d like to talk about what I did to change from somebody at the bottom of the pack to somebody at the top. Most of this stuff has already been mentioned in numerous books, essays and forums. I realise that quite a lot of this will sound repetitive. Still, I include it here because I want to include the whole package, not just those bits that are new (if there are any).

First I’d like to start by talking about the inner alpha, as I think that it is better to start fixing your inner game, before you start fixing your outer game. For one thing, when you’ve got the right frame the rest will all happen quite naturally. Though there might still be quirks that need to be ironed out, it will all flow much more naturally if you’ve go the right mindset. There is a lot of stuff to being an alpha, so I’ll only include some of it in this post. So here are the first four, in no particular order (they’ve been written as they came to my mind):

Alphas expect to be obeyed.

Alphas do not use words like ‘could’ ‘would’ or ‘might’, they tell other people what they want them to do, because they expect other people to do them. So you don’t say ‘could you pass me the butter’ but you say ‘pass me the butter’. You can include please, if you like. Being alpha does not mean being nasty and impolite.

Alphas also make decision for the group and expect others to follow their decisions. This does not mean they walk all over other people’s opinions. Quite to the contrary, they might well wait with making their decision until they’ve heard what everybody else suggests and then go with the suggestion that they think will be best. If, however, nobody knows what to do then the alpha will decide a course of action.

This might sound rude to you, but that’s because society’s ideals are not actually in line with our natural state of mind. We are led to believe in democracy, freedom and free will, but in small group dynamics people give up some of their freedoms in order for group cohesion and enjoyment. People don’t mind if others make the decisions, as long as those decisions bring them something. One thing a leader’s decision brings the rest of the group is a more dynamic time (as they don’t end up arguing endlessly about what’s going to happen next) as well as freedom from responsibility. They don’t have to stick their necks out, as the alpha is doing that for them.

Alphas do not mind if others take the spot light.

Sometimes people want to be alphas and they constantly hog all the attention and the spot light. This is because they are insecure in their alpha status. They are not true alphas, as a true alpha doesn’t mind somebody else taking over for a while, as they still know that they are the leaders. In fact, the alpha of the group need not necessarily be the most talkative person in the group. Some alphas are very quiet, but they dominate by force of will and personality.

An alpha that is insecure in his alpha status will soon be out alphad and might not even be aware of it. What is more, they will quickly get annoying to the other people in the group. A lot of people like to talk and if they don’t get the chance, they will resent the person who is hogging too much of the attention. A true alpha is like a chairman, deciding who should speak by focusing their attention on them (at which point others will follow their lead).

Alphas do not try to be alphas.

An alpha is an alpha. They do not have to try to be an alpha. Anybody that tries to be an alpha is, by definition, not the alpha. In fact, people that try very hard are often resigned to the bottom of the pack. Alphas do not try, they are.

So what does that mean? It means that you tell stories, do tricks and generally behave the way you do because that’s what you enjoy and because you do it well, other people enjoy it too. You talk about things that interest you or talk about things that interest other people because you’re interested in them. You don’t do it because the person will like you more if you do that. You don’t need to be liked, you already are.

If you do things for your own enjoyment people will catch your mood and believe you to be more genuine (which is true). They will enjoy being around you because you give them energy by being full of energy.

Alphas do not seek approval, they give approval.

Alphas rarely ask such questions as ‘Do you like it if I do [blah]’ or ‘do you mind if I do [blah]’. This is because that is a form of approval seeking. The alpha knows not only that he is already approved, but that he must be the one to approve of others. Other people will frequently ask them for their advice and ask them about what they should, or shouldn’t do.

This does not mean the alpha doesn’t care about what other people think. Of course they do, because otherwise they would soon lose their alpha status. They just watch for how others approve through more subtle cues. They read body language and listen to what others say without the alpha prodding. What somebody says in approval about you without you asking is far more valuable than when you try to force them to give you complements. The first types of complements are much more likely to be genuine than the second.

Alphas also give approval to others and, because they are leaders of the group, this approval is very much appreciated. When the alpha of the group gives a complement, this can make another person’s day. Note, however, that this power is lost if you give too many complements. Complements should be used sparingly and truly meant when they are given. That way they hold more value for everybody involved.

More is to follow, please give comments on what I’ve written so far. These are my observations, so they might not all be correct so I expect you to criticise, correct and counter. To be continued…

This too shall pass

I haven’t read a great deal of Buddhist philosophy, but I did read one book of stories at one point. I can’t remember the name, nor the author. In fact I can only remember very little, but the thing I do remember will stay with me for a very long time. At one point the author explains that something we should absolutely take to heart is the sentence ‘this too shall pass’.

As long as we never forget that our low moments will be less low and our high moments higher. After all, depression becomes a great deal easier to deal with if you realise that it will end. What’s more, understanding that the high moments in your life will also pass will make you appreciate them more. You will be less likely to become complacent and more appreciative of the good times you already have.

‘But wait,’ some of you might say, ‘how can you truly enjoy something if you can’t forget that it will end?’

The thing is, I don’t think we ever really do forget that the moment will end. True happiness (or ecstatic happiness) is at best momentary. For a moment you can suspend reality and live in the moment, but within minutes – if not seconds – the moment will pass and though we’ll still be happy, the worries in our mind will come slipping back in.

The realisation that this too shall pass means that those moments of ecstatic happiness will mean more to us and, what is more, those people, things or ideas that bring them will be appreciated more.

Is that pessimistic? I think realistic is more like it, though of course one person’s realism is another’s pessimism. Still, I don’t think it’s pessimistic, as I see myself as an optimistic person.

The first of many

Yesterday I did my first fashion show in India and I have to say it is quite unlike anything I’ve experienced before in the fashion industry. Back in Singers, when I modelled there seemed to be an unwritten rule that models should not have any fun. Not so here in Bangalore. Before and after the show the models were allowed to mingle and behave like the guests. So that included bites, booze and bickering.

The show was, in true Indian style, a bit of organised chaos. The run was practiced once (as opposed to the two hours back in Singers) and then when the show happened the event manager decided to improvise on the mike, ordering the models to do things that they were not in any way expecting to do. They had to answer questions, remove garments and smell each other, while all the time not trying to embarrass themselves in front of hundreds of people.

It went surprisingly well. Nobody made an ass out of themselves, nobody tripped and nobody said anything overly stupid. Well, except for me when they shoved a camera in my face for some local news channel and asked me about the products (which I had not even heard about until yesterday). ‘The products? Oh yeah, they’re really great. What products do they have? Well, uhm, skincare and uhm, hey look over there! That man is using a moisturizer on an uncleansed face!’

No, I didn’t say that. Instead I rattled. I always rattle when people shove a camera in my face. If I’d slow down then I’d sound much more in control and I’d have much more time to think about what I’m going to say next. Slowing down would be the logical thing to do. At that moment logic is not foremost in my mind, though, and I end up speeding up. I guess I can hope I talked so fast that they couldn’t understand me so they’re not going to use any of my footage, or maybe they’ll just slow down the track.

It was quite funny seeing the reaction of the lady interviewing me, when I asked her name (this was before the cameras were rolling) she actually looked shocked. As if I should already have known who she was. She did mention her name, but then I promptly forgot it, as the heavy camera light momentarily blinded me and she started in on her questions. Now that I think about it, maybe she asked me those questions I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know who she was. Would TV personalities be that petty?

Talking about TV personalities, I met another woman last night and she’s the anchor for a new TV show. We chatted about what doing TV was like and only about 15 minutes in did I realise I didn’t know what kind of TV show it was. I hadn’t asked and she hadn’t volunteered the information. It became clear why when I asked her. Her show was the overly exciting and highly entertaining ‘Realty Check’ a program dedicated to bringing the newest news and the hottest tips in the real estate industry.

Wow, that must make for stimulating viewing. I can just imagine getting some mates together, cracking open a beer and sitting in for a long evening of real estate news. One group could cheer for the improving economy and the other group could cheer for dropping house prices. We could invent our own chants and occasionally tussle in a friendly, non-lethal kind of way.

Anyways, the evening was fun. Not profitable in the least (it paid a measly $50 US) but at least it kept me from spending money elsewhere and allowed me to meet some new people. As if I haven’t met enough of those over the last few weeks.

No pain, no gain

I’m in a great deal of pain. Thursday and Friday (as in yesterday and the day before) I went to the gym for a total of three and a half hours. A trainer has been arranged for me and this guy’s a bit of a masochist. He gets you to push yourself to your limits and then asks you to push yourself a little more.

The place I was in was air conditioned and everybody there seemed to be doing alright with the temperature. Everybody, that is, except for me. Both days I was absolutely drenched with sweat; so drenched that I needed to hang out my shirt to dry, just so that my bag wouldn’t end up stinking of sweat along with all the other lovely scents that have gathered in there over the last month and a half.

Now my whole body is sore; my chest, my upper and lower arms, my legs, my back and even my throat. No, he didn’t find some mysterious muscle in my throat that he felt needed training. Instead I’ve got a throat ache. I think I got it from a combination of getting caught in a rain storm the other day (even my underwear was drenched) along with the suppression of my immune system that happened as a result of the hard training. I’m glad that the dude isn’t available for the next two days, so that I can at least get some rest.

But that’s not all. I also almost managed to electrocute myself. You see, my room is not exactly rain proof and it’s been raining a great deal over the last few days. It’s not like my room gets absolutely flooded, but puddles do seem to form. My charger, unbeknownst to me, was lying in one when I decided it was absolutely essential that I recharge my laptop. I plugged it in and immediately a charge started to build up all over the laptop, which I was holding. I got three nasty shocks before I was able to pull the cord out.

Of course I am stubborn, so half an hour later I tried again (hoping that by this time the plug had dried). One more shock made me aware of the folly of my ways. I gave up on the charging till the next day. Fortunately only my ego (and possibly my nerves) were harmed and my laptop continues to function well.

No pain, no gain. At least now I know I’m going to get a little stronger, a little huskier and a little wiser about using wet electronic devices. It’s about time. I’m almost thirty and I’m still perfectly capable of electrocuting myself. I have the feeling that as the rate I'm going I'll be long dead before I'm wise.

Deja Vu

I’ve been picked up by a modelling agency in Bangalore. As I’ve told all of you I’ve been hanging around with some interesting people and one of them said ‘why don’t you go meet this guy, he’s one of the top stylists in Bangalore and blah, blah, blah.’ I no longer have any pictures, or anything from my modelling time, but I did have a great deal of time. So I thought, ‘why the hell not.’

I was given the address of the place and I got horribly lost. Of course it had to be a hot day, so by the time I arrived there (I walked again, like usual) I was absolutely drenched in sweat. I didn’t give a damn, as I thought my chances of getting any work were pretty slim anyway, without a book. So I just walked in, put a big friendly smile on my face and said ‘hi, my name is Symbol, Blah from Blah called you yesterday.’

He looked at me for a few seconds and then asked ‘do you have a book?’ I said ‘no, I’m travelling so I didn’t think I’d need it. Anyway, I haven’t modelled in a couple of years so they’re out dated.’ He looked at me for a moment longer than said, ‘we can use you.’

That, as you might have figured, was not the answer I was expected (with sweat gushing from my face and the front of my shirt wet with sweat). I stopped myself from talking for a few moments, in case I’d stutter and then just said ‘cool’.

That same evening the dude took some new pictures (to send to clients) booked me for the Bangalore fashion week (which he was managing anyway) and got me two shows. The next day he got me a free one year gym membership with a local place and told me I have one month to get in shape.

I love dead lines. They push you to perform. Getting into shape will be a fantastic thing, even if I don’t get any work. But I have the feeling this bloke is pretty serious about using me (he’s already expended a lot of effort on my behalf).

I guess there just aren’t enough white models in India right now. Apparently they fly most of them in from outside. Using me would mean not paying for the air tickets, accommodation and babysitting. That, not surprisingly, is an enticing offer for any stylist cum event organizer.

So what does that mean? Well, I suppose it means I’m going to be sticking around Bangalore for a while longer. I’ll have to make short day trips to the surrounding area. That doesn’t bother me, though. Bangalore is filled with excellent people and I’m sure I’ll even learn to deal with the 11:30 closure time.

Plus there’s a ton of cheap book shops around the city, so I can pick up anything I want to read. I paid four Sing dollars for two books the other day! And if things go wrong? Well, then I’ll just go back to my original plan and keep moving. It’s great living out of only two backpacks. It only takes about an hour to leave almost anywhere.

Still in Bangalore

As the title might already have given away, I’m still in Bangalore. My days have been occupied with writing, reading, drinking coffee, going out and generally spending too much money. I might have mentioned this before, but the clubs in Bangalore close early, frustratingly early. At 11:30, just when you’re really in the groove, the lights come on and the staff start to usher the people out. For me the night only really gets started around twelve, so it has been quite an adjustment.

In the beginning I thought that this would result in fantastic after parties, where all the crowd in the know go to continue revelling deep into the night. But either I’m not hanging out with the crowd in the know, or these parties don’t actually exist in Bangalore. The best I’ve been able to find is to end up sitting in an apartment that needs a new coat of paint with a group of guys who need more female friends.

The result is that I’ve been going out every day of the week, just in order to get the number of hours together that I’d normally do on one or two nights back in Singers. I wonder if the way I’m partying now is more or less expensive than the way I used to party before.

So why am I still here? I’m not exactly sure, to be honest about it. I like the people I’m hanging out with and they are probably the primary reason that I’m still hanging around. Travelling has always been about meeting new people for me. The people here are interestingly different, with a whole new set of hang ups and problems. Watching them has given me some insights into how I deal with my own problems.

One of the biggest problems I’m currently stumbling over time and again is that deep down I’m actually shy and of the opinion that I’m not that good at making contact with new people. I’ve made it my mission to stamp that trait out before I leave India. So far, however, I haven’t been doing as well as I might have liked. I constantly doubt my own ability to initiate an interesting conversation. I know intellectually that I can keep a good conversation going with most people, but unfortunately my fears and worries don’t really care a great deal for what I consciously know. Communication is in so many ways a subconscious thing.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that I am apparently unapproachable. I don’t know why that is, but ever person I end up speaking to I speak to either from my own initiative or through an introduction by somebody else I already know. I realise that this is pretty normal for most people, but everybody must occasionally get approached by a stranger interested in meeting somebody new, right? Well apparently they prefer initiating those kinds of conversations with people other than myself.

It must be something in my body language that seems to scream ‘danger, do not approach’. The problem is that I haven’t quite yet figured out what it is that I do. Do I appear too arrogant? Too cocky? Too self assured?

What ever it is (and I am determined to find out what it is) it is leading to me not being approached, while my own insecurities lead to me not approaching. Those two things together, in turn, lead to me spending a great deal of time sitting alone in all the cafes, coffee shops, bars and restaurants I frequent.

I guess it's simply another barrier that needs to be overcome. I'll keep you posted about how well I'm doing in overcoming it.

Infinity

Don’t think too hard about what is to follow. It isn’t meant to make sense. It isn’t meant to be understood. If it was supposed to be understood, then I would have made it understandable, wouldn’t I? I don’t care about what you really think. Just give me your compliments; just give me your praise. If you tell me the truth I’ll smile and nod, while inwardly wondering at what you’re trying to prove.

The colour of truth is an awful shade of green that nobody really likes. It’s one of those colours that’s available, but so few people paint with. It is only there to shock and awe. It’s one of those things to which we pay lip service, but we never truly appreciate. Truth is a dagger, driven into comfort’s heart.

The syllabus of creation theory is a manuscript written with the sole purpose of destroying reason. If we really wanted to think, we wouldn’t rely on God; instead we would rely on our own judgement, a flawed mismatch of chaos and misunderstanding, a troubled tool of uncertainty and confusion.

When the time comes for our own demise, will we run screaming into the night? When the time comes to pay the Pied Piper, will we haggle for a better deal? It doesn’t matter that we say we’re ready, when the real time comes we’re bound to find that our existence was both too short and too brutish. If we were happy with the little time we were given, then we’ve obviously lived too long.

Try to understand what I’m failing to tell you. Try to comprehend the beauty of my dementia. After I’ve committed suicide, I’ll be certain to clean up the mess. I’ll drag around my lifeless body and wash my carcass with the waters of forgiveness. Even if it then remains tainted, at least I tried to make the best of it. I’ve tried to take this moment and draw it into eternity.

The eternal moment continues into infinity. The boredom was excruciating. It was that extended bus trip, with us stick forever one third of the way through. It was that road trip with those people you called friends, but never really liked.

The bottom of the bottle draws near, but yet I’m too far along to believe I should end it. The last grains of sand are wasted on regret. Don’t hope for anything more than you’ve got. After all, only when we’ve lowered our expectations to where we’ve already met them will we ever be happy with what we’ve got.

I dream of the stars and how one day I will conquer them. I dream of a time where eternity is at my beck and call. It doesn’t matter that she’ll hate me. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. Ultimately I will just take her and even if she will hate our children for the pain they have caused her, the beauty of my love will eclipse the sordid way that I have created everlasting pain and destroyed her hope for redemption.

Delusions of Grandeur

How logical are you as an individual? Chances are that you consider yourself far more logical than you really are. The reason for this is that you (just like everybody else) post rationalise. You apply logic after the fact and then believe that it was always there. Very often we react out of an emotional basis, but then fool ourselves later into believing that it was all done from a completely logical point of view. Though we might not be able to change what we did terribly much (though even that is possible) we can change why we did it.

Our motivations for our actions are largely internal and frequently not immediately shared with those around us. For that reason the only person who could possibly notice them changing is you and, since you never vocalised them, the chance of you noticing that happening is rather slim.

That is especially true considering the weakness of memory. Every single time you remember something, what you’re really doing is remembering the memory as you last remembered it. Yes, that sounds like quite twisted way of saying the same thing, but it isn’t quite. If you remember something you recall it from your memory, bring it into your conscious mind, play around with it and then put it back in your memory. There is no backup copy that remains behind!

Every single time you do that little details change. This is made even easier because, contrary to the common held view, memories are stripped off all but the most essential information so as to make it easier to store them. The rest of the memory isn’t actually memory at all, but simply your imagination filling in the details.

You’d think you’d notice, wouldn’t you? But of course you don’t, because the only thing you have to compare your memory to is, well, it self. You have (as mentioned before) no backup. There is no part of you that’s going ‘but wait a minute, wasn’t her coat red the last time I remembered this?’ because the only thing you have to go by is your memory and if you this time remember her coat as blue, well then it must have been blue all along, mustn’t it?

The only way to compare memories is to look at other people that were there at the same time. These people have their own memories and will frequently have memories quite different from your own. This is, in fact, the proof of changing memories.

So with these memories so easily changed, it becomes easy to make yourself appear much more thoughtful and intelligent, as well as far less emotional and capricious than you really are. Add to that the halo effect (in which we think we’re more special than everybody else for the simple reason that we are the only person we are fully aware of) and you’ve got a situation where you think you performed more reasonably in the past than you did and you predict you’ll behave more reasonably in the future than others.

No wonder complete strangers are almost as good at predicting our future actions as we are.

It's raining men

Today it’s raining. I think it’s been raining softly for most of the day (a very Dutch style of rain where the rain is really fine, almost like mist and you can walk through it, but it’s cold and continuous) but I wouldn’t know as I was asleep for a great part of it.

Last night I was invited to some of the guys’ home who I’ve been hanging out with. They live in two bedrooms somewhere a short distance away from the centre. We sat and talked about everything from the size of the galaxy to good literature and even, dare I say it, gossip. Yes, occasionally even I gossip.

I crashed out there for a couple of hours, then headed back to my new hotel (which has a 24 hour door, a must for me I’ve found) where the managers looked quite surprised to find me walking in at 11 o’clock in the morning. They probably thought I had had a much more adventurous night than I had actually had.

I slept some more and now I’m back near the MG road (short for Mahatma Gandhi Road). It’s three o’clock and I have another suspicion tonight will not end early.

That’s all cool, except I have one important question that I need answered: Where are all the women? It’s very strange for me to hang out in almost completely male company. It seems like the sexes don’t mix very much over here at all. Though there are women about they seem to almost always be either in the company of each other, or in the company of their boyfriends; and this is in one of the most western cities of India.

I’m going to have to figure out how to solve this, because I find idea of remaining womanless for much longer very unappealing. And no, not just in that way. It isn’t always about carnal knowledge, you dirty minded dodger! Well maybe it is a little, but there is more to it than that. I’d like to meet and get to know (in the normal sense, not the biblical one) Indian women. I’d like to understand how they tick and how different they are from the women I’m used to.

So far, almost all the conversations I’ve had with women have been with Western ones. That’s cool, but I already have a reasonable idea about how Western women work. It’s how the South Asians fit together that still mystifies (and therefore intrigues) me.

First Impressions

Yesterday Morning at four o’clock I arrived in Bangalore, along with two other travellers that I had been moving around with for the last ten days. They crashed out in a hotel (which was hard to find) and I took to the city. Bangalore is a great deal more western than Chennai and after quite a while on the road now I kind of needed that. I drank coffee, wandered around western shops (which were still too expensive for me even here) and generally enjoyed myself, while still looking for a better hotel.

I ended up meeting the other travellers in a coffee place and we sat around sipping cappuccinos. A couple of tables away from us was a peculiar dressed fellow. His shirt was unbuttoned almost a couple of buttons too far, he was wearing aviator glasses on an overcast day and so forth. I remarked on him and the English bloke I was with (the couple were both English) remarked:

‘He looks like a twat’

I decided to find out if he was one. I went over, struck up a conversation and ended up chatting with him for a couple of hours about religion, psychology and other related topics. He turned out to be a genuinely nice guy. The reason he was dressed like that? He was a part time model and worked in marketing. One man’s twat is another man’s fashion icon.

In the evening he offered to take me clubbing and we ended up in some hidden trance/ house. Club dancing at about twice the energy level of the rest of the room (and the rest of the room wasn’t holding back, either). Another bloke joined us and we just danced. Barely any alcohol (he doesn’t drink as he’s a practicing Muslim and I couldn’t drink because the prices were just way out of my league) just cigarettes and positive energy. I haven’t done that in a while.

Now it’s just a question of how long I will stay in Bangalore. The other two travellers I was with have moved on. They couldn’t take the heckling out here and I do have to say that it can really get on your nerves, but then nobody ever said that India would be easy and I’ve already experienced that first hand.

Out and About in Chennai

Things are much better now. I’m healthy again (I think, the Imodium hasn’t stopped working yet, so I’m not completely sure) and except for the fact that the bus broke down on the way back to Chennai, everything has been going pretty smoothly.

Yesterday I went out. We went to some westernish style bar, drank a couple of beers, then moved on to gin and then got hit on by an old faggot who had flown in from Australia, probably with the intention of finding himself a toy boy. That wasn’t quite so amusing, especially considering that initially we had a pretty good discussion about politics. I knew he was gay right from the start, but I thought I was giving the right signals to make him aware that I wasn’t interested. Apparently he didn’t see it that way after pouring two bottles of champagne down his throat.

After that we met the New South Wales Cricket team and went up to one of their rooms (don’t worry, there were some women). They had absolutely smashed the place. Clothes were strewn about, people were passed out from alcohol abuse and the toilet lid had been smashed by some drunken, oversized lout.

It was mystifying, watching them in action. They just assumed that everything would work the same way as back home. One of the people I was with (not a member of the cricket team) probably explained it best when he said ‘they are just country lads with no real world experience, who found out one day that they could throw a ball’.

They drank and they drank and they kept ordering more booze, even after the 11:30 booze curfew had passed. The hotel kept given them drink, as these guys were like gods to them. One of the Indian people I was with excitedly told us that he had seen a cricket legend in the pub he’d been in before. That turned out to be their coach. The Indian man could initially barely contain his excitement. That changed a bit when he was sitting with them and watched how they were behaving, at which point his excitement mixed with confusion and unease.

It’s interesting to see when West and East clash and can’t get to grips with each other. It also happened over in SEA, but it is much more apparent here. Probably because the Indians are far more direct in giving their opinions. When the South East Asians don’t like something you do, they gossip about it afterwards. When the Indians don’t like what you do, they yell at you.

I’m learning how to yell back.